


Fling

by ddagent



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: (essentially), F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Kissing, Morning After, Mutual Pining, Summer Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-22 03:38:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20867579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ddagent/pseuds/ddagent
Summary: Jaime is disappointed when his holiday fling doesn't turn into a real relationship. He gets a second chance when his company gives a presentation to Selwyn Tarth and his daughter, Brienne. For JB Week Day III.





	Fling

**Author's Note:**

> For JB Week Day III, 'Vacation'. Which I *know* is the drabble prompt but the muse just...went for it! Although there's no *actual* sex in this story, there's lots of explicit references to it. I hope you enjoy!

“You know, most people return from holiday in a _better _mood than when they left.” Jaime glanced up from his phone to find his brother’s watchful gaze. “I thought you had a _good _time in Dorne. At least, that’s what all your messages said.”

Jaime clicked off his phone; the image of the blonde striding out into the water disappearing. “I did.”

“Then why do you look so _fucking _miserable, Brother?”

Jaime opened his mouth to explain but could not find the beginning. Perhaps before he left: coffee-stained shirts, tired eyes, late nights and early mornings. The plans for the Lannister-Tarth deal were intricate, lengthy, and Jaime was slowly losing his grip on anything that wasn’t hotel or resort related. So, Tyrion had sent him away. Two weeks in Dorne: get some sun, have some fun, get _fucked. _Jaime would have preferred to take the historical tour of the Free Cities he’d been longing to go on for years, but his brother had insisted Jaime do _nothing _for two weeks, so he was fresh for today’s presentation.

Perhaps he should start with _her. _

“I, uh, I met someone. In Dorne.” Jaime cleared his throat. “At the resort.”

Tyrion’s face lit up; whether in happiness or in seeing another avenue to needle him, Jaime was unable to say. “_Finally. _Father will be so pleased. What’s her name? Is she based in King’s Landing? What does she do? Is she attractive?”

“Brienne, no, no idea, _yes._” At least, Jaime found her attractive. Legs for miles; pink, plump lips. Eyes the colour of the water on that Tarth brochure. It had taken some time for Brienne to accept that he wanted her, _desired her _over the dainty, half-naked tourists swanning around the rest of the resort. But by the Gods, the first time they’d slept together… Jaime cleared his throat and discreetly adjusted himself. He’d practically spent those two weeks inside her. “_Anyway, _we’re not together. She–she didn’t want a relationship.”

“Oh. I’m sorry, Jaime.”

Jaime tapped his phone against his leg; preferring to stare out the window at the streets of the capital rather than face the pity in his brother’s eyes. “Me too.”

He thought they’d had something. Both on enforced time off; both wishing they could be somewhere else. Both with an interest in the meagre historical sites near their resort (they’d sat next to each other on the coach to the Tower of Joy; Jaime’s hand brushing hers as the bus bumped along). Maybe he should have accepted it for what it was: a holiday fling. But he’d talked more and laughed more with Brienne than he had in a long, _long _time. And the sex…being far from home, with no recognisable faces, had removed both their inhibitions.

Jaime crossed his legs, placing today’s paper over his crotch, as he remembered the small alcove they’d found along the cliffside. Brienne had perched atop a rock ledge; her swimming costume peeled off and discarded. Feet dangling in the water; legs spread. His mouth on her— “So, what time are the Tarths due to arrive?”

“Slightly before us, unfortunately. These roadworks are _ridiculous._” In the front seat, Tyrion’s driver Bronn flipped them both the finger. “I met them while you were away; well, I met the _father. _Unfortunately, it’s Selwyn’s daughter that’s the goal here. She’s due to inherit the whole company when he retires in a few years, so she’s the one we really have to impress.”

Jaime could be impressive. He could be charming. He just had to forget about Brienne and focus on his work.

\--

Bronn pulled the town car up in front of the looming skyscraper that was Lannister Holdings; Tyrion spitting a curse as he spotted the Tarths already inside. Jaime said nothing; just adjusted the line of his suit and ran a hand through his hair. He could charm the daughter. Flirt a little, perhaps. After all, it wasn’t as if he had a _girlfriend _or anything. Just a holiday fling with an incredible woman from the Stormlands who knew the point-by-point history of _Oathkeeper _and could do things with her tongue that would make even Tyrion blush.

Trying his best to clear his thoughts of Brienne, Jaime followed his brother inside. A broad-shouldered man with white hair and a portly belly stood by the reception desk. He caught sight of Tyrion and waved. His brother leaned in close. “That’s Selwyn. Nice enough man. I hear the daughter’s stubborn, though. And as ugly as Clegane up on three.”

They joined Selwyn Tarth at the reception desk; an exchange of handshakes and introductions quickly following. “Mister Tarth, this is my older brother Jaime.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Jaime. This is my daughter, Brienne.”

A figure unfolded itself from one of the crimson chairs littering the lobby. Jaime’s jaw fell slack; eyes darkening as he was introduced to Selwyn’s daughter. The last time he’d seen Brienne, it had been in his hotel room. She’d been naked, save for a sheet; red marks from his beard across the curve of her breasts, her inner thigh. Both had desperately avoided the subject of their flights home: he to King’s Landing, she to Storm’s End. And now she was here. Wearing navy flats and a skirt that brushed her kneecaps. Knees that had once pressed against his shoulders as he’d buried his tongue inside her cunt.

Tyrion elbowed Jaime in the ribs; his arm shooting out as a reflex. “Jaime Lannister.”

“Brienne Tarth.” Pink spots had formed across her cheeks. Her face would soon go ruddy; those splotches travelling across her collarbone and atop her breasts. “Shall we get started, gentlemen?”

After signing their visitors into security, their little group bypassed the barriers and headed for the lifts. Tyrion and Selwyn engaged in small talk about the weather, the traffic, their journey in from Tarth. Jaime kept shooting glances at Brienne, busy trying to fade into the background. She kept fiddling with her hair; the strap of her briefcase. There was a button missing on her jacket. Jaime smirked as he recalled all the ripped buttons, torn lace. It surprised him that Brienne Tarth had been able to bring any luggage home. Not that she’d been much better. There were still teeth marks in his favourite shirt. 

“—and Brienne will be staying in King’s Landing as she helms our Crownlands office.”

Jaime froze, reaching out to place a hand atop Brienne’s arm. “You’re moving to King’s Landing.” She nodded. Jaime _beamed. _Brienne would be here. With _him._ “I can show you around, if you’d like.” He chuckled. “I make quite the tour guide.” 

Brienne stared at the hand lingering upon her skin. “I have friends in the capital.” Her father coughed, and Brienne’s blush deepened. “Thank you for the offer, Mister Lannister. If it doesn’t impact your schedule, I would very much like to take you up on it.”

“I’ll clear it. I’ll clear the whole damn thing.”

The lift pinged. Both Selwyn and Tyrion were staring; neither knowing quite what to make of the scene in front of them. Thankfully, an enclosed lift would cut down on conversation. Several Lannister employees poured in first. There was space for him and Brienne, but Jaime wanted a moment alone with her before they were locked into a conference room for the next few hours. He was still touching her arm. “We’ll grab the next one.”

Tyrion’s forehead creased, but the doors were already sliding closed. Finally alone, Jaime advanced. “We should—”

“—pretend that Dorne never happened.”

Jaime scoffed. “Fuck that; I was going to say we should find a utility cupboard and have sex.”

Brienne scowled; her blue eyes pinning him in place. As if he would go anywhere else. “Mister Lannister, that is _highly _inappropriate.”

“_Mister Lannister_, is it?” He leant in close. “There were times last week you could barely say my name I’d fucked you so hard.”

“_Jaime._” Her flush was almost Lannister red. Brienne placed a hand atop his chest, pushing him far enough to get some distance. But not far enough she wanted him gone. He would be sprawled across the floor if that was the case. “Jaime, nothing has changed between us.”

“You said we were in different places; that it wouldn’t work because of distance.”

“I said we were from different _worlds, _Jaime. I said you wouldn’t want me – _us _– in the real world. I mean, if I thought—” Her tongue swept across her top lip; the blue eyes that had bewitched him so now resembling a summer storm rather than calm seas. “Let’s just keep things professional. If we agree to a deal, your brother could handle the account or someone from our end. We would never have to see each other again.”

“Is that really what you want?”

The lift pinged. “It’s for the best.”

Brienne strode inside the lift and pressed the button for the top floor. Jaime waited for the next one.

\--

When he finally reached the conference room on the twenty-eighth floor, Brienne was only just settling herself at the table. Tyrion was waiting to give his presentation: a proposed venture with Tarth Experiences to build the first decadent resort and spa on the island. Suites, hot tubs, private bars: it would be a haven for the rich and famous, would bring more jobs to the area, and improve tourism over the next five years. Tyrion had his spiel ready. Jaime just had to present the numbers and charm the Tarths.

That was the sole reason, of course, why he specifically sat next to Brienne at the conference table.

“There are more chairs, Mister Lannister.”

“This one suits me fine.” He leant back, forcing a grin at Brienne. “Shall we get started?”

Tyrion launched into his carefully prepared presentation. Jaime’s attention, however, was elsewhere. He couldn’t understand Brienne. Back at the resort, it had been simple: two lone travellers holding up a bar; both reading alternative historical fiction. Falling into bed again and again and _again; _two days of his holiday spent doing nothing but fucking and being fucked senseless. They’d fit together perfectly back there. Brienne wasn’t a tacky porcelain dragon or a ‘Winter is Coming’ t-shirt, or anything _else_ you regretted bringing back from a holiday. So why wouldn’t they work here?

Beside him, Brienne was studiously taking notes on Tyrion’s presentation. Her pen only stuttered when Tyrion talked at length about the planned hot tub in every room. Jaime made sure to slouch in his chair at that point; he kept his eye upon the presentation, but from Brienne’s choked gasp he knew she was fixated on his crotch. _We had fun in that hot tub, didn’t we, Brienne? All manner of sins happened underneath those bubbles. _

“Do you–do you think there’s any _need _for such extravagance?” Brienne asked, cheeks aflame and pen bouncing in her hand. “One of our core aims as a business is to be environmentally friendly, Mister Lannister, and I am concerned about water consumption.”

Jaime interceded. “All our hot tubs are made from recycled materials; triple checked to ensure safety. The water will be recycled rainwater. We intend to use the Stormlands to our advantage and offer eco-friendly choices at the resort.”

Brienne tugged at the skin of her bottom lip with her teeth; Jaime desired nothing more than to do the same. “That would certainly mitigate my concerns, Mister Lannister.”

It was Tyrion who took up the conversational ball. “We’re glad, Ms Tarth. As for the hot tubs, _yes, _they are a luxury, but holidays are supposed to be, no? You do things you wouldn’t do otherwise.” 

“Well, _no, _Brother,” Jaime interjected, seeing an opening to address Brienne’s concerns. “Sometimes you do things when you’re on holiday that you want to do all year round. Or for the rest of your life.”

Brienne snorted. “_Or, _you spend your holiday doing things you wouldn’t normally do because there was a lack of options, or interest, and when you come back, you’re too ashamed of what you did to tell your friends about it.”

That’s what she thought? “Not all of us are ashamed of the things we get up to on holiday.”

“_Well, _some people are. It’s just best to leave things at the resort, because even if you did start scuba diving back home, it would only be a matter of time before you got sick of it and went back to…_sailing._”

Jaime twisted in his chair, green eyes seeking stormy blue. “_Well, _maybe I really enjoy scuba diving. Maybe I really enjoyed every minute I spent scuba diving, and it broke my heart when I learnt I couldn’t do it back home because it makes me _happy, _dammit. Happy in a way sailing never did.”

“We have plans to offer surfing lessons, too.”

Both Jaime and Brienne turned to Tyrion; his brother standing in front of the large projector with his hands outstretched and a knowing look in his eye. There might be more than one _Brienne _in Westeros, but neither she nor Jaime had been as subtle as they thought in their coded argument. Even Selwyn looked uncomfortable. Brienne’s father reached for the water jug and poured himself a glass.

“Please continue, Tyrion. I’m certainly interested to know about the packages you’ll be offering.”

Tyrion carried on with his presentation whilst Brienne continued her stream of notes. Jaime interjected when intended, and when his eyes sought Brienne, he found the corners of her mouth creasing in a slight smile.

\--

“I think I left something in the conference room; I’ll be right back.”

Jaime’s head lifted from the conference table at the sound of Brienne entering. Tyrion and Selwyn were outside; slipping back into small talk now that the presentation was over. They’d seemed positive, engaged, and Jaime hoped his behaviour hadn’t jeopardised this deal. He could swear to stay a million miles away if that’s what Brienne wanted. Right now, however, it seemed as if Brienne wanted to talk. Door closed, blinds down, she advanced towards his side of the table.

“I owe you an apology, Jaime. I have..._issues _when it comes to men. Lying, cheating, _wagers over my virginity._” Jaime snapped upright, silently promising to hunt each man down and shove their winnings where the sun did not shine. “I’m sorry I tarred you with the same brush. I really, _truly_ enjoyed our time together.”

He smiled. “I did, too.”

Brienne took a step closer. “That evening you spent trying to convince me you were attracted to me… I just decided to give in; enjoy it for whatever it was_. _You’re beautiful, and I would never see you again, so I didn’t have to worry about being hurt. _Of course, _I ended up falling for the most gorgeous man in all of Westeros, who _of course _has a replica of _Widow’s Wail_ in his living room. So, I got hurt anyway.”

“You don’t have to be. I meant what I said: I really want to take up scuba diving as a hobby. Be one of those annoying people who never shut up about their hobbies.”

She laughed and came even closer. Slid herself onto the table right in front of him. “I still have a thousand excuses why we shouldn’t do this. We’ll be working together; my father wants me running point on this deal.”

Jaime swallowed his elation at the success of six months of hard graft, and instead rested his hand upon Brienne’s knee. His thumb ran over a cluster of freckles, and she shivered. “The way I see it, we’ve already crossed that line. We’ve had sex in _many _different places. _Many _different positions. I know what you taste like. I know what you look like when you come. I know how _fucking _loud you are.”

Those pink splotches returned, visible underneath her white shirt. “_Jaime._”

“We’ve seen too much, _touched too much, _for us to just be business associates. You’re moving to King’s Landing so you haven’t got long distance as an excuse. That picture I took of you in the ocean is the wallpaper on my phone, so I have no issue staring at your face every day.” Jaime pushed himself close; Brienne instinctively spreading her legs to accommodate him. He rested his chin upon her knee. “I might not have been a champion debater like my brother, but I’m pretty sure I can shoot down any argument you have about why we shouldn’t be together.”

Brienne smirked, considering his words a challenge as he knew she would. “You won’t let me play with your sword.”

“Oh, Blue Eyes, you can play with my sword all you like.”

Jaime surged upward; his mouth meeting Brienne’s in a passionate kiss. Her ankles locked around his back; heels digging into his flanks. Gentle hands carded through his hair before tugging ferociously at his shirt collar. Jaime sucked her bottom lip between his before leaving kiss after kiss to her jaw and the cords of her throat. His hands pulled the navy jacket from her torso; one reaching up to palm a breast. Brienne was busy leaving a mark to the underside of his jaw. Her marks were still on him: bruises from her teeth and tongue; scratches on his back from that time they’d earned that noise complaint. Jaime wondered whether she still carried his marks, too. Love bites that said _she’s mine, and I am hers. _

Voices grew louder outside the door. _Fuck. _Brienne was practically spread-eagled on the conference room table; skirt hiked high and his bulging crotch pressed against her centre. He offered his hand and pulled her right way up; both immediately making themselves presentable; both all dishevelled hair, missing buttons. Jaime pulled himself and his erection under the conference room table in case someone decided to come in and witness the heirs to the Lannister and Tarth fortunes about to fuck.

But no one did. Jaime pushed out a ragged breath, and Brienne just laughed. “I can’t believe we nearly just did that. My father’s outside!”

“He is. You know where he’s not? In my office, with the most comfortable sofa you’ve ever laid on.” Gods he wanted her. Screw work; he _needed _her. It had been three days since they’d said goodbye in Dorne, but it felt like a lifetime. “There’s a bed, too. But that’s back at my penthouse.”

“Of course it is.” Brienne’s chest heaved, face beaming. “Maybe we could go there tonight after my tour around King’s Landing.”

He grinned; his post-holiday blues fading fast. “It’ll take more than a night, Brienne.”

“Even better.”

\-- 

Two and a half years later, Jaime was on Tarth (not for the first time) to join Brienne in the ribbon-cutting ceremony to open the new Casterly Resort and Spa. Photographers happily snapped the decadent interiors, the lavish exteriors, and the glittering engagement ring upon Brienne Tarth’s finger.


End file.
